


I'll Bleed Out For You

by fluffier432



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad/spiderson - Freeform, Kidnapping, POV Peter Parker, Pain, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Rape/Non-con Elements, Road Trips, Shooting, Spidey Sense (Marvel), Spidey Sense Fail (Marvel), Stabbing, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Underage Rape/Non-con, Verbal Humiliation, Whump, tags to come as i write this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-11-12 01:57:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18001610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffier432/pseuds/fluffier432
Summary: They had been planning this day trip for a month. Apparently, so was somebody else. Now, Peter could only hope he didn't have to wait another month to see Mr. Stark.Or the one where Peter has to pee and he ends up in the hands of someone who's not too fond of Iron Man and knows how to blackmail him.





	1. When The Day Has Come That I've Lost My Way Around

_“_ **_Peter,_ ** _I swear--”_

_“It’s okay, Mr. Stark--”_

_“What part of this is okay?”_

_“They want me, not you.”_

_Tony’s eyes held the fear only a mentor-made-parent’s could, and panic was making his hands shake. Even as Peter was dragged farther and farther away, the anxiety was clear on his face._

_Peter closed his eyes._

 

When he opened them, just a second later, his spidey sense was going off and the smoke alarm was beeping. _Not a great start to the day,_ Peter thought to himself as he got out of bed.

“Mr. Stark?” he said blearily, walking into the kitchen to find Tony fanning the smoke alarm with a tea towel.

“Morning, kid. Sorry for waking you up with this hot mess,” he apologized, gesturing to the charred attempt at a pancake on the stove. After May’s death a few months ago, Peter moved into the Compound, and Tony had been working on his cooking skills. So far, not so good. “And I mean literally hot and a literal mess,” Tony continued.

Peter laughed weakly. Tony had managed to get the smoke alarm to cease its deafening beeps, but the hair on Peter’s neck was still rigid. “Mr. Stark, who else is here?” he asked, hoping one of the other occupants of the Compound had arrived overnight and his spidey sense was telling him about it. Mentally crossing his fingers, Peter tried to hide his nervous question with a casual tone.

It didn’t work.

A concerned expression overtook Tony’s face as he set the towel down. “Just us, kiddo. Nat and Clint went on a mission last night, and Pepper left this morning. Why, you tired of my company?” His words teased, but his tone expressed his worry for Peter.

“No! I just…” Peter scratched his neck in hopes of getting rid of the awful feeling. “Something’s...off.”

“Off?”

“Off.”

Tony nodded sagely. “Maybe it was the smoke alarm.”

“Maybe,” Peter sighed, sitting down at the island in the centre of the kitchen. “Pop a piece of bread in the toaster, I’m not eating that.”

“Hey! It took a very long time to cook this.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he laughs.

The toaster beeped, which made Peter jump, which made Tony look at Peter with an even more worried look.

“Kid, listen, we don’t have to go out today if your senses are too overwhelmed, alright? We can go another day, it’s no problem--”

“No, it’s okay, I know how hard it is to get a day that works for both of us.”

“Peter, I swear--”

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark--” Peter cut himself off with a soft gasp. He hadn’t meant to, but he sounded exactly like he did in his dream.

“Kid? What’s wrong?” Gently holding Peter’s arm, Tony took a seat next to said teenager.

Peter shook his head. “I’m fine, okay? Let’s just forget about everything, eat our toast, and then we’ll go to the museum. It’ll be great.”

The toaster beeped again. Blackened bread and smoke alike shot into the air. More screaming from the smoke alarm. Groaning, Tony bitterly grabbed the tea towel off the island, muttering curses at the offending machine.

 

*******

 

“ **Mr. Stark** , um, do you think...can we, like, stop at a McDonald’s or something, please?” Peter asked about 45 minutes later, bouncing his leg in his seat.

“Kid, I told you before we left--”

“I didn’t have to go then!”

Rolling his eyes, Tony rested his hand on Peter’s hyperactive leg. “Never has the nickname ‘kid’ fit you so well, Pete.”

Peter pouted. “I take full offense to that.”

“You should. Look, we’re on a highway surrounded by forest. I don’t know how soon we’re gonna see an En Route or anything like that. You wanna pull over and go behind a tree or something?”

Blushing at the situation he was in, Peter tried to quell the feeling in his gut telling him they should _not_ pull over right here, while his bladder demanded that they do. “Fine.”

So Tony pulled over, and Peter got out, hoping he wouldn’t have to venture far to find somewhere suitable and hidden from Tony’s view. Parked a few yards behind theirs was another vehicle, which struck Peter as odd. Two men got out of the van, supposedly to do their business as well.

There was a suspicious amount of rustling around Peter as he unzipped his pants, and the gut feeling grew ever stronger, but Peter had to _go_ . The rustling got closer. Peter turned to face a tree, hoping they wouldn’t come close enough to _see_ anything.

It went quiet. Sighing and closing his eyes in relief, Peter disregarded his spidey sense _screaming_ at him about upcoming danger. He only realized he was in trouble when there was the sharp prick of a needle in his arm and a burlap sack over his head.

Peter’s knees buckled, but he kept consciousness long enough to just hear one of the men make a comment about “catching him with his pants down”.


	2. And The Seasons Stop And Hide Beneath The Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late update! I've been really really busy with school and work but hopefully a somewhat longer chapter will make up for it?

**“** **Well** **,** well, well,” the strange man holding Peter shouted as they approached Tony’s car. The passenger seat window was already rolled down, and Peter was glad the men had allowed him to zip his pants back up. “If it isn’t Mr. Stark himself.”

Though that needle had had a truckload of drugs in it, Peter’s metabolism burned through them in no time. Waking up in the hold of a strange man and his sidekick was not ideal, however. At least Tony knew the situation now and could get Iron Man to help--or so Peter thought until the man holding him aimed a gun at his head.

“You make one move to get out of that car, Stark, and I’ll have to cut this scene short. Neither one of us want that, do we?” The man smiled sarcastically, quickly dropping the expression to adopt a graver one.

“Kid, what--” Tony started, but the kidnapper cut him off as though he hadn’t spoken.

“Now, I don’t want money, or tech, or even an apology. I just want _you_ ,” he jabbed a finger at Tony, “to understand what _you_ did. Because there are many people whose lives have been ruined by Iron Man, and apparently I’m the only one with the balls to do anything about it.”

The man let go of Peter, who was promptly grabbed by the other, slightly more hefty criminal. As he got closer to Tony’s car, gun still aimed, Peter watched his mentor whip his sunglasses off his face and squint at the offender.

“Justin Hammer?” he managed, clearly shaken.

Hammer leaned on the car door, elbow poking inside, flashing an egotistical grin. “You know it, baby. Let out early for good behavior. And despite what you made everyone think, I’m not as stupid as I seem.” A real smirk overtook his face as he pointed to Peter behind him, still holding eye contact with Tony. “And I know that this kid is more to you than an intern.”

Only Peter’s enhanced eyesight could have allowed him to see the sheen of terror in Tony’s eyes before he guarded his face again. “Yeah? So what is he then?”

“Your son.”

“Well, he’s not, he’s just my intern. Hand him over,” Tony demanded, managing to sound genuine enough that Peter’s heart twinged. They had talked about this before, if one of them was ever held hostage, to pretend that their relationship was purely a boss and his intern. Peter knew that. Still hurt to hear, though.

“Yeah, right,” Hammer snapped. “I don’t know too many big company owners who take their interns on a trip to the museum.” Tony’s eyes widened. Peter would’ve laughed if the circumstances were different. “Yes!” Hammer continued, snapping his fingers in Tony’s direction and striding towards Peter. “ _I_ figured out where you were taking him! Scared yet, Stark? Your _son_ is.”

“He’s _not_ my son,” Tony insisted. “And I wasn’t taking him to the museum. If you really want to know, we were going to a conference meeting. I was going to show him the ropes.” It was a weak lie, but what else could Tony say?

“Nice try, Anthony. Your lies may fool the public, but they don’t fool me. You made up the internship to hide something. A father would do anything to keep his son safe. Lying about the fact that he’s your son to keep him away from the press is simple, effective, and so Stark-esque that you couldn’t resist.”

Tony sighed and leaned back on his seat, appearing indifferent enough that Peter could almost believe he _was_ only an intern. “Enough, Hammer. I want you to let go of my intern _right now_.”

“Actually, I think I’ll hold on to him. I mean, he must be an _amazing_ toy if you’ve kept him for so long.” Hammer traced his finger along Peter’s jawline, face uncomfortably close and gun stuck to Peter’s temple. “Promise I’ll take good care of him.”

Peter had been quiet, forming a plan in his mind. “Can I at least have a moment to beg for my internship before Mr. Stark lets me go?”

“No.”

His plan of escape was instantly shot down. _This is a nightmare,_ Peter thought, the feeling amplified by the fact that Peter couldn’t even use his full strength; right now, he was Peter Parker, not Spider-man. The anxiety made his senses spike. His eyes hurt from the sun, Hammer’s cologne stung his nostrils, and he could hear Tony’s heart pounding clear as day.

Tony stared at him. Peter attempted to hold his gaze as calmly as possible. The fake relationship act was dropped to allow Tony’s fearful whisper. “Peter, I swear--”

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark--”

“What part of this is okay?”

Heart dropping, Peter realised this _was_ a nightmare. He could only hope it ended in the same way it did before, with him waking up to the sound of the smoke alarm and the smell of burnt pancakes.

Only one way to find out. “They want me, not you.” Peter wished he hadn’t seen the panic in Tony’s eyes, or the way his hands shook on his lap, or the absolutely _terrified_ expression on his face. It was all too much, so Peter closed his eyes.

_When I open them, I’ll be in bed, and I won’t be kidnapped, and I’ll be okay._

 

*******

 

**_...Right?_ **

Wrong.

He had kept his eyes closed while they stuffed him in the back of the van, shot holes in Tony’s tires, and started the vehicle, but he made sure to keep his eyes wide during the ride. His now-handcuffed hands wouldn’t be much use at this point, so his eyes and ears were crucial.

Eventually, Hammer joined him in the empty back, sitting cross-legged in front of him and holding a cloth gag. His suit was still crisp, despite fighting against the small struggle Peter had made just twenty minutes ago. His shoes reflected the weak ray of sun in the van into Peter’s eyes. And it smelled like he had poured the rest of his cologne on himself before leaving the front seat.

“I know you’re still a minor, kid,” Hammer began, missing how Peter frowned at the misuse of his nickname, “but I can’t have you screaming for help when we get there.” _There?_ “So if you cooperate, _maybe_ I won’t have to knock you unconscious again. Think you can handle that?” The derogatory tone his voice held grated on Peter’s ears, but he bit back the smart comment on the tip of his tongue in favor of staying awake for the rest of the ride.

Suddenly Hammer’s gentle hands were on his shoulders, nudging him to turn around. This mostly served in making Peter more nervous rather than actually moving him, but succeeded in both anyway. The cloth tasted like straight chemicals and burned Peter’s tongue.

“Looks like _Mr. Stark_ has you trained well, huh?” Hammer praised once the gag was secure in place. “I bet you obey his every command. Well, I hope you learn to obey _my_ every command. Because there will be a lot of them, and I won’t stand for any sass.” His hand crept onto the back of Peter’s neck, and he leaned in close, warm breath washing over Peter’s face. “But I think you’ll be a good boy, won’t you?”

Peter narrowed his eyes, wishing he could prove his captor wrong then and there. How dare he talk about Tony as if he was anything but caring towards him.

“I expect you to be on your best behavior when we get there,” Hammer warned, standing up and leaving Peter in near-complete darkness.

 _Still don’t know where_ there _is, but okay,_ Peter thought bitterly. He wasn’t planning on any sort of “good behavior” anyway. He was going to escape.

Besides the dim light coming from the window on the trunk doors, there was a thin crack in between said doors that signalled to Peter a chance of escape. If he could just get these handcuffs off, maybe he could pry the doors open. Unfortunately, they had taken his phone, so he couldn’t call Tony to pick him up, but just getting out of the van would be good enough for Peter.

Wrenching his hands out of the cuffs would be impossible without breaking or dislocating his thumbs, so the only option left was to break the chain.

A few tries left cuts on his wrists, but a few more allowed Peter to examine the welts with his own eyes. They hurt, but were already closing up.

Now that he had full use of his hands, he _could_ try and punch the door open. However, that would make a ruckus, and the last thing Peter needed right now was attention. Overwhelmed, Peter took a moment to focus on his breathing.

 _Okay,_ Peter told himself, _so I need something quiet. Think more smarts, less strength. What would Tony do in this situation without his suit?_ Peter had barely thought the question before he knew the answer. _He would probably find something to pick the door lock with._

Unfortunately, outsmarting Justin Hammer was harder than Peter thought. The back of the van was swept clean, not a hairpin in sight. If only Peter wore his hair long…

Patting himself down, Peter confirmed there was not one sharp thing on his person. His nails were not nearly long enough for this job, and there was nothing in his sweater pockets, so the only thing left to conclude was the fact that he was stuck--

 _\--My sweater! The zipper!_ Excitedly, Peter tore off his sweater and jammed the zipper head into the keyhole. After some twisting and maneuvering, a resounding _click!_ made Peter’s heart leap. The door swung open easily.

Like a hydra, as one issue was resolved, two more came up.

Movies made it look easy, but Peter knew for a _fact_ that he couldn’t just leap out of a moving car. He didn’t even know where he would end up, either.

He crooked his knees, playing out how he would escape in his mind. Jump, shoot his webs quickly to avoid getting a road burn, swing, and...well, he would figure it out as he went.

That is, if he ever got the chance again.

Somebody had yanked him back inside the van.


End file.
